Just a hug
by timtom
Summary: (AU modern) Gwen is rather down after her grandfather's funeral, but Morgana does her best to be a good girlfriend. I've never really shipped them two before but now I think I know what all the hype is about. Rated t for brief reference of nakedness but hey it's cute because after all its just a hug.


**_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any characters in it._**

_**Author's note: Okay so I've only been watching Merlin for like six episodes, and I probably ship Merthur more than this ship (I mean I don't think I've shipped them ever before, or any femslash), but I really wanted to write femslash because of a picture I saw on tumblr, and I was so inspired and this was the only femship that I knew. It worked out okay though, at least I reckon so. Feedback would be great thanks :)**_

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Morgana had never seen Gwen like this. She only responded to 'Guinevere', not Gwen and didn't sip her tea at all. She drank it in whole hot mouthfuls and when she told Morgana that she was _only tired_ her eyes just seemed so sad. Morgana hated seeing Gwen sad; she was always so happy and cheery, and would let Morgana play with her beautiful hair when Morgana was sad. She would bring her hot tea with honey and bake her biscuits shaped like ducks. Because Morgana likes ducks. But it broke her heart to see Gwen like this. She was like a broken girl, and everywhere she went she was numb.

See, just a week before, Morgana had accompanied Gwen to her grandfather's funeral. She says 'accompanied' and not 'went with' because Morgana actually made an effort to be proper, and not swear, and only kissed Gwen when they were alone, even though her entire family were completely accepting of them both. Because she felt like she was stealing Gwen's grandfather's thunder and she would feel silly, and then she would start giggling, which would be totally inappropriate at a funeral.

But it had been a week since the funeral, and Gwen was still sullen and hollow. It was like she was a living embodiment of a ghost, who wondered sadly around their flat and fed off hot tea and Morgana's kisses. It wasn't even sex, because Gwen was hardly up for that anymore. It was just their mallow kisses; soothing kisses; butterfly kisses; neck kisses; eyelid kisses; forehead kisses; kisses along her jaw and in her hair when they're on the couch and watching telly. It was just kisses and tea that Morgana made, which wasn't even that good but Gwen put up with it because Morgana made it and in turn it was like it had a little bit of Morgana in it. Gwen once said Morgana tasted like cinnamon and nutmeg and rainbows.

Morgana and Gwen had been together for five years and it was the first time Morgana had seen her like this. It made Morgana really worried, and she now ingests over twice as much Wagon Wheels as humanly possible daily. Luckily she had one of those constitutions where she never puts on weight, so it made no permanent effect other than the emotional damage it was reinforcing.

Morgana and Gwen had a shower in their flat that resembled those of the showers that American football players showered in. It was wide, tiled on all sides, had a single shower head in the middle and had no curtains or walls opening to their sink. It was simply pure space that kept the water from splashing onto any area that wasn't tiled. Their bathroom was about as big as their bedroom, and Morgana and Gwen had more than once discussed the theory that they got lucky because this was an actual sample from an American locker room. No one else had this rather weird luxury and they simply felt superior and brilliant for concocting this theory.

But it was a week after Gwen's grandfather's funeral, and Gwen was taking a shower and Morgana noticed that Gwen hadn't made a noise in half an hour. Usually Gwen sung when she was in the shower, and even after the funeral she had sung – it was just sad songs sung soft like Joanie Mitchell and slow Adele. But today she hadn't made a sound since she went in, and when Morgana pressed her ear up against the door, she heard quiet noises. Not objective noises that was related to any emotion – just noises. So she went in without knocking, and Gwen was standing in the middle of the shower, holding onto herself and crying. At least Morgana thought she was crying, because water was streaming down her hair and face anyway, and she couldn't tell. She looked simply broken, and she was sobbing and she probably would've been sitting clothed on the shower floor like they do in movies, but they've both agreed many times before that that was overrated and unhygienic.

Morgana looked at her, and her hands started to move by themselves and she was undressing herself. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that said _you need me now so I'm going to undress and join you_. And when she was fully naked she walked into the stream of the water and Gwen's arms opened and welcomed her. The water poured over them and drenched their bodies and raised goose bumps but in a good way. In a way, it merged them two as one, because Gwen had wrapped her arms around Morgana's shoulder and head, and Morgana had held onto Gwen's back and threaded through her wet curls. They were pressed flush together, and even though breasts and knees were in the way, they fit like Lego blocks. Morgana felt full; an external feeling of being full and never wanting to let go, because this felt so _right_ and her Guinevere needed her and she wasn't going to let go until she was okay.

Gwen was doing soft sobs now, and they didn't kiss, they didn't even have sex. They just stood under the water in their strange but wonderful shower, and held each other because that's what they needed, because that's what it is – being there for each other occasionally, with no sex involved. They held each other tightly, as if they were holding on and the world was spinning away from them underneath their feet, because Gwen had never felt this deserted, and Morgana had never felt so much sympathy for someone so sad. It felt like these emotions were washing over them in waves like the water raining down on them, but instead of reminding them of what they were feeling, it was slowly washing it away, like it was cleansing them of their grief and pain. Morgan's hand patted Gwen's hair – Gwen's damp curls doused so that they lay limp and thick against her head – because she had stopped making noises now, or shaking, and Morgan assumed it was okay to let go.

After the shower, they didn't say anything, but it was there, in the air. It was just a hug, albeit a long and intimate one, but nevertheless it was nothing more than that, and yet it was everything that Gwen had needed to move on. It was the feeling in the air that was a mutual _thank you, I'm sorry_ and _it's okay, because I'll always be here_, and that was all they needed.


End file.
